


Sign of Love

by lellabeth



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Deaf Clint Barton, Feels, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Phil Coulson is too precious for this world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 08:44:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3722542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lellabeth/pseuds/lellabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story contains references to past domestic violence situations. They aren't graphic, but please be safe when considering whether this story is something you should read. Take care of yourself.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Sign of Love

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains references to past domestic violence situations. They aren't graphic, but please be safe when considering whether this story is something you should read. Take care of yourself.

Sometimes Clint forgot that people thought of him as disabled.

This was probably because it had been a long time since Clint had been surrounded by people who told him he was. He didn’t deny his hearing loss - he had hearing aids made by Tony now and his lip-reading was better than that of the instructor at SHIELD, but he was still Deaf. There were still times when he’d be in a loud place with someone facing away from him while they spoke and he’d have to ask them to repeat what they’d said. He’d taken up every ambassador role offered to him by various Deafness charities and advocacy groups, and he knew he’d brought some sorely-needed representation and hope to those trying to fit into a world that refused to see them as whole.

It was a struggle to keep a smile on his face whenever he’d face yet another question about how it felt to be the ‘world’s first Deaf superhero’ like it was somehow a fluke, like there was something about being Deaf which also made it intrinsically impossible to be a hero. They’d ask questions about whether Dr. Banner was working on a version of Cap’s serum to fix his hearing, or whether Tony had managed to find a way to restore it through technology, or whether he was worried he was a liability in the field.

And Clint would bite his tongue so hard it bled, and his heart would bleed too. Even as Natasha would grip his hand so tight it hurt and Cap would give his disappointed face, Clint would be stuck on words like  _burden_. The team called him a hawk but in those moments he felt like an albatross, weighing heavy around all their necks and putting them in danger.

On those days, Phil’s arms were the only safe haven he had left. Phil, who had never judged him, who had never thought of him as broken or weak. Clint had been Deaf for most of his life, but Phil was the first to look past it.

In truth, Clint’s Deafness was nowhere near the worst of the wounds left over from a shitty childhood. Those memories were etched into his fractured bones, written on his scarred skin. He’d been rendered Deaf by his father, but that seemed secondary to what had come after. Clint’s mother, her fingers too mangled by breaks to manipulate themselves into anything meaningful. Barney, who tried to teach Clint how to speak only to be beaten for it any time their father heard. People tried to talk to him but their lips moved so fast and Clint couldn’t follow what they were saying, and his eyes would burn with tears as he stared at their mouths, unblinking, like suddenly everything would make sense. Clint had lived almost in isolation, in his own silent, solitary world.  It hadn’t been until their father had been imprisoned for beating their mother to death that Clint finally saw a speech therapist and had his first clunky hearing aids given to him.

He’d refused to even wear the hearing aids for the first few months. They hurt and they amplified every noise until it felt like his whole body vibrated with them. Barney stole a book on sign language from the library and they’d use a flashlight to go over the signs at night, when none of the other boys in the home could see.

When Barney signed  _hello_  that first night, it felt like everything inside Clint’s body was aching. He wasn’t alone anymore.

Eventually they were moved to a foster family who spoke to Barney and left him to translate it to Clint. They cringed whenever Clint spoke, his words still slurred and slightly off, but they never made him stop. Other foster homes weren’t so good, and Clint had to learn how to sense danger even if he couldn’t hear it.

When Barney went to the circus, he followed. Barney was his lifeline, his only link to the outside world. That tether was enough for a few years, but Clint knew he couldn’t follow down the path that Barney had forged for himself. He worked every job possible until he had enough for new hearing aids, one that were actually fitted to his ears and adjusted so it didn’t seem like the world was screaming at him.

After that, Clint was alone again, until years later when a man in an alley who told Clint that he could be more.  _Come with me_ , the man had said, rain dripping down his face,  _and your whole life will change._ Even in the dark of night, his eyes had been blue and honest, and Clint was too tired to keep running.

SHIELD took his Deafness in stride. They set him up with comm units that doubled as aids, trained him in lip-reading. All his handlers were made aware that sometimes they’d have to repeat an order. Only one had ever complained about it post-mission. Clint had been quietly furious and abjectly mortified, but Phil had argued his corner in front of an entire room of people, like Clint was worth defending.

Phil was the only handler assigned to Clint after that. They worked out a system for comms so it was clear when Clint had fully understood a directive, and over months of missions, they became friends. Phil was Clint’s first real friend. They spent hours talking on a private line while Clint sat in his raised perches, waiting for a target, and Clint learned there was a big difference between being alone and being lonely. They were so busy that they barely spent any time together face-to-face, until Phil invited Clint to his office for lunch one day they were both in base.

Phil answered the door to his office with a nervous smile, and Clint didn’t understand why until he looked down. Phil was  _signing._

 _Hi, Clint,_ he said, carefully fingerspelling Clint’s name. I w _anted to wait until I knew more than just a few words so we could talk properly_.

Clint was so overwhelmed that he didn’t move his own hands until he saw Phil’s smile fall. _Hi, Phil. Thank you for learning._

Phil shrugged, but it seemed shy.  _Wanted to talk to you._

_I have these expensive hearing aids, remember?_

_Yes, but…_  Phil’s hand made a strange movement that Clint couldn’t decipher, and then he realized it wasn’t a sign - Phil was just twisting his fingers around one another. “I wanted to show you I thought you were worth the effort. Sorry,” he said, a wry tilt to his lips. He was still signing, but only half of what he was speaking. “I don’t know most of those words.”

Clint laughed. It felt like the sun was rising right here in this room, right here between himself and Phil. Phil had learned sign language just so he could converse with Clint using fumbling fingers and stilted movements. Just so he could show Clint that he was committed to being friends and accepting of Clint’s Deafness.

Clint didn’t know what to say, so he kissed Phil instead.

It took a few seconds before Phil kissed him back, but when he did it was like nothing Clint had ever felt and everything he had ever wanted. Phil held Clint’s fingers in his own, and it took several passes of Phil’s fingers over his skin before he recognized the word he was spelling out.

_Beautiful._

Their relationship was slow. It was also perfect, even when Phil was complaining that Clint had put back a DVD out of alphabetical order or Clint got mad because one of his arrows had been moved off the coffee table. It was normal while being not normal at all - not because they were SHIELD agents, but because Clint was convinced he loved Phil in a way no one had ever loved anyone. Phil was his sun and every star in the universe, and Clint liked to think the sky was blue because Phil’s eyes were too pretty not to be shared with the world. They both knew how unsafe their jobs were, so they made sure each moment meant something. Clint would kiss each of Phil’s new injuries after missions and Phil would kiss his, and they’d go to sleep wrapped up in each other.

Some nights Clint would wake up out of breath and with his heart racing, clawing at his ears. “Why can’t I hear?” he’d scream over and over, like he could say the words loud enough to hear. Phil would turn on a light and put his hands in Clint’s line of sight.  _You are safe. You cannot hear because you are Deaf. You are safe,_ he’d repeat over and over until Clint’s lungs could expand again, because he was Deaf but he was also safe, he knew he was always safe with Phil.

 _I am Deaf,_  he’d sign back to Phil.  _You love me._

Phil would nod and make a  _C_ over his heart before kissing his closed knuckles then extending his thumb, index and pinkie finger.  _I love you._

Clint would wrap his hand around Phil’s fingers, feel the imprint of those words against the scars of his skin.

Some nights, he’d tell Phil all about a letter he’d received from a Deaf girl who’d gained a whole group of friends after they found out she knew ‘Hawkeye’s language’. He’d explain the details of a new play center for Deaf children that he’d opened that day, or the charity who provided hearing aids for those who couldn’t afford them. Phil would tell him how proud he was, and Clint would feel warmth pulsing through his veins.

Sometimes Clint forgot that people thought of him as disabled.

Their mistake.


End file.
